


be alive

by cottoncandyacey



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Broken Bones, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor Injuries, Physical Therapy, newt recovering from his broken ass ankle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottoncandyacey/pseuds/cottoncandyacey
Summary: We all know about how Newt broke his ankle...But what about him trying to walk again?
Relationships: Alby & Newt (Maze Runner), Minho/Newt (Maze Runner)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	be alive

**Author's Note:**

> based on running-mazes’ first post on tumblr 😔
> 
> ...this is my second work, please be nice I wrote this at like 1:40-2:40am ,,,
> 
> oh, happy new year btw. it’s 2020 now. fuck yeah.

“Alright, Newt, you can start walking now.” Clint said, setting Newt’s leg back down on the cot. “It’ll be hard, and you might be stiff or sore about it, but I think it’ll loosen up if you keep at it.”

Newt nodded curtly, glancing to Clint. “Should I start now?”

Clint paused, and then nodded, offering Newt his hands. Newt swung his legs over the edge of the cot, stood up, and promptly crumpled right into Clint’s arms.

…they agreed to take it slow after that. 

The next day, it was Jeff that came to help Newt. They started small, helping him balance on his good leg, hopping around a little to test his balance. Turns out, his balance was as good as it had always been from when he was a Runner. 

But as soon as he put pressure on his bad leg, his knees gave out. 

They put his ankle back in a splint. 

Actually, it got easier to move around after that. It was a weird hobble, but when Newt couldn’t sleep, he’d move around his room slowly, carefully. It was tentative, nervous, and he never put a lot of pressure on his bad ankle, but it started to pay off. 

One night, there was a creak that Newt didn’t notice, before the door opened and there was a quiet “well I’ll be shucked” behind him, making him spin on his good leg, toes barely touching the ground on his other foot. 

Minho stood there, looking at him with an awed, surprised look. They kept eye contact a moment, and Minho spoke again, walking over. “How much weight can you put on your other leg?”

“Not a lot.” Newt admitted, letting go of the wall one hand at a time, resting his hands on Minho’s shoulders instead. 

“Let’s test it.” Minho said, a sly grin lopsided his features. Newt stared a moment, then nodded, and slowly started distributing his weight so some of it went to his bad ankle. 

He collapsed in about two seconds. 

Minho helped him back to the cot, but Newt was smiling the whole time as he murmured to Minho that he’d never been able to stand up for so long. Minho grinned at him once he was laying down, and held his hand up. 

Newt high-fived him. 

“You’ll be up and about before you know it, shank. Keep it going.” Minho said, and there was a note of pride to his voice that made Newt’s heart both sing, and break all in one moment. 

“I’ll never be a Runner again, though.”

Minho’s face dropped, and he sighed, sitting on the edge of the cot and taking Newt’s hand in his. “...I know. But you’re still my buddy, aren’t you? I’ll help you out as much as I can.”

There was a pause, and Minho’s eyes suddenly lit up. Newt sighed. Did Minho get another dumb idea? Apparently so, because the Runner started talking.

“How about this. I get back to the Glade, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I take care of myself,”

“Uh-huh.”

“And then I come visit you, and help you walk around your room.”

Newt’s eyes widened. That… actually wasn’t a bad idea. It was actually smart. He didn’t mind falling or making a fool of himself around Minho - they knew each other better than they knew the backs of their own hands at this point - but for the Runner to come up with such a smart idea all the sudden… 

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Newt asked, smiling weakly despite tears filling up his eyes. Minho grinned, reaching out and brushing a tear off Newt’s cheek. 

“You up for it, Newtie?” Minho retorted, chuckling and running his fingers into Newt’s hair, holding on and watching as Newt smiled up at him. 

“Of course I am, Min. Wha’d’you think I’m gonna say?” Newt replied, reaching out and grabbing Minho by the back of his neck, tugging him over and hugging him softly, Minho chuckling against his shoulder and pulling Newt closer before pulling away after a moment or two. 

“Mm… let’s get some sleep, cupcake. Want me to stay until you’re asleep?” Minho asked, and Newt nodded, tugging Minho down onto the cot. Minho chuckled and complied, laying down and gathering Newt into his arms, smiling as he stroked Newt’s hair, entertained as Newt was out like a light not even five minutes later. 

* * *

“Shank.” Newt said, glaring at Minho as the Runner entered the room, his arms crossed, sulking. 

Minho chuckled at him, responding in a teasing tone. “Upset I didn’t stay the whole night, Newtie?”

“Shut your shuck face, Min.” Newt replied, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, shifting onto his good leg and reaching for Minho, the Runner already there, wrapping his arms around Newt. 

Newt leaned into him, putting a tiny bit of weight on his bad foot, brightening when he was able to maintain it, though it dropped as soon as Minho spoke again. 

“...that’s cute.”

“Minho, I will hit you.”

“Love you too, mister amphibian.”

_“Shut your shucking face.”_

* * *

It started to get easier, Newt found. He was more motivated to walk as he made more progress with Minho helping him, soon finding himself hobbling around his room even by himself, hopping a little here and there and always making it back to his cot when the pain started to get to be too much. 

Minho always teased him through it, but never stopped holding Newt up so gently, so carefully, with those strong hands and arms that Newt found himself trusting more and more. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for Minho any harder, huh?

* * *

“Your ankle is pretty much totally healed, uh…” Jeff swallowed, apologizing when Newt hissed as he pressed down on the sore ankle. “I think you can try walking outside.”

Newt’s face lit up. He missed the Glade. He missed the trees and the grass and the other Gladers. “I can?”

“Clint?” Jeff asked, moving aside for the other Med-Jack to take a look at Newt’s ankle. After a quick examination, and a little poking and prodding, Clint came to the same decision as Jeff. 

“Want us to get anyone to help you?” Jeff asked Newt, and Newt paused a moment. 

“Alby?”

“Already here.” Came Alby’s voice, and Newt grinned at him, getting to his feet with Clint’s help, carefully limping over to his friend, reaching for him and letting Alby take him into his arms carefully, Newt slinging an arm over the dark skinned boy’s shoulder. 

“Ready to go outside?” Alby asked, and Newt scoffed. 

“Of course I am.” 

So Alby helped him outside of the building, and out back into the Glade. And man, did Newt miss it. 

The air was cleaner, clearer. The grass whispered in the wind, and the trees rustled, leaves shimmering as they were gently waved around. Animals crowed and called out to each other somewhere distant, and the familiar chatter of Gladers made Newt relax. This was much nicer. 

“Where do you wanna go?” Alby asked, frowning and trying to grab Newt as the blonde half limped, half hopped forward, glaring over his shoulder, even as his eyes twinkled.

“I can walk myself, slinthead. I wanna go to the Deadheads.”

So Alby helped Newt to the Deadheads, sitting at the base of a tree that faced the Map Room. And there Newt settled down by a tree, crossing one leg under him, sticking his other, his bad leg out and keeping his eyes locked on the doors. 

“...waiting for your-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Newt cut Alby off, and Alby chuckled, settling beside Newt, glancing over at the blonde with an amused smirk. 

“...for your boyfriend?”

Newt sighed heavily, turning to glare at Alby, eyes narrowing. Alby chuckled, and punched Newt’s arm softly, letting Newt hit him back, just as softly. 

They talked for the better part of the day, and then the Runners started coming back. Newt sat bolt upright, and watched and watched and ah, there was Minho. 

Alby laughed as Newt’s hand shot into the air, Minho glancing over and stumbling over his own feet, before turning and darting over, Newt carefully getting himself to his feet just in time for Minho to scoop him off his feet, holding him up and grinning against the blonde’s shoulder. 

“Up and about, huh? How do you feel?” Minho mumbled, setting him down carefully. Newt laughed quietly against his shoulder. 

“I feel…” Newt paused a moment, and then smiled. “Happy.”

“Yeah?” Minho asked, pulling back, the other Runners crowding around them, worried about their friend.

Newt leaned on Minho, looking around at them, and found himself grinning. “Now, you guys are gonna shucking lose it, but…”

“I think I’m happy to be alive.”

The Runners, indeed, lost it. But none more extremely than Minho, who promptly slammed his lips against Newt’s in a kiss, Newt catching him as soon as he tried to pull away to kiss him properly, the Runners whooping and cheering and laughing around them. 

Yeah, Newt mused to himself as Minho pulled away, the two grinning at each other with flushed faces. _Definitely happy to be alive._

**Author's Note:**

> I’m gonna revive this fandom through the sheer power of a fucking hyperfixation I tell you,


End file.
